Archive for the ‘Yoga’ Category

A picture is worth a thousand words. Without warning it will incite your inner child. Often, if you leave your mental post, it will talk to your heart. One such painting left me spell bound. In the November 2009 issue of Yoga Journal (p.67), a quiet Shiva stands out in earth sky tones and reminds me of the mud of India. Like the sweet simplicity of crayons, or the joy of tracing Devnagari letters in chalk, it transported a sense of beauty I could not resist. I wondered why. Why did these colors produce such a profound sense of oneness in me? It might be that the artist had used a palette straight out of my childhood, the water colors unfolding with the same flow of when we were children, when we loved all those shades inside a single box of paint and dipped freely in them without worry. A child paints for the fun of trying out how small round pigments will look pressed out against an impression of sky, an impression of water, an impression of a shape form or figure. In this artist’s rendition of Shiva, a similar style invokes a childlike joy. Shiva, balancing in Hastasana, gazes out at his world from his wondrous Prakruti. Without discrimination the mountains, hills, water, and the supreme Yogi express themselves playfully, with no consciousness of right or wrong, only the feeling of joy for the vision of paint, and a fresh new shade. Thus love rolls out of the innocent imagination of the maker, without an intermediary of thought or judgment, only the intense feeling, ‘rasa’ for manifestation. Like childhood paint running over the plastic rims, the magentas, yellows, blues, and reds in this painting stream out of the body of Shiva into surrounding nature, infused with the artist’s own craving for beauty- for those steep undulating brush strokes of his/her inner child. Then as slender hands rise up to touch the sky, Shiva pulls out an oversized red gold flower like it were the whole point of creation- that God manifests himself and then offers his awesome gift to mankind, so that mankind may gaze, even as God gazes back, in praise and gratitude.

Dancing Shiva

That is why this painting moved me so much, its colors still wet to my touch and the more I smudged it, the better it got. From the brilliant petals to the delicate saffron folds of fabric, the picture initiated a desire to want some of that bright blue sparkle for myself, to rub off on me from touching it and drinking its beauty again and again- to become, you know, as colorful and sublime as the fluid invitation of Shiva.

You may find Vidula teaching in Katy ISD, cooking delicious food, teaching the cooking class on Nov 7, or chating beautiful kritana at the center.

Mother Vidula, yogini of the months!!

The yoga spirit is up, alive, and running. What with Chaturanga dandasana how can it not? One has no time to be complaining as one balances with the last breath to go up and then bear down on the arms. When one has puny forearms, one can only fight with all one has. But I like these fights in the mind, what I call the other rigor on the mat. On the one hand, the physicality of the pose itself is a challenge, on the other hand the mind can help and hinder with the progress. I remember days in the class, four years ago, when I couldn’t get out any sooner. Time moved too slowly for me, as I half heartedly attempted 50% of what most people could do with so much ease. All around me, I had these unbelievable bodies who could reach out and stretch and twist and bend with incredible grace and perfection. Then there was the other kind of resistance to battle, the mental force that kept denying the possibilities that, perhaps, with a little bit of acceptance and opening I could discard the boundaries I had so carefully constructed for myself. Everyday I fought with familiar armor: the long drive, the long hours, the meal adjustments, and that mother of all excuses, maternal guilt that came in so handy when I needed it. So, if nothing else, my teenage children needed me to be home if only to bore them with my company. Then one day, these false rationales slipped away like a layer of onion skin, or rotten lettuce that one doesn’t need any more ( Maybe that’s a bad analogy. But you get the point.) Down with joint pain, like the kind I had never experienced before, a little voice inside me told me to go do yoga and offer my pain and resistance to my practice. This time following this intuition was easy as I had brought my heart and will to it. That was in March. Today, in August, I am attending class 5 days a week, and feeling so much better for it. Actually, to say that yoga is making a difference sounds like something of cliche. It has been said before. But, what can you say about simple truths? When they become a part of your experience, you have to say them one more time. For, that one more time is your life.

Anyway, Monday class was thriving with all our combined energy. It was so amazing to see everyone do Hastasana en route to doing other more complex poses. Even though I normally close my eyes when we start our hatha yoga, (for obvious reasons. I want to surround myself with my own bliss that my pose is perfect, for myself) I sneaked a look around me and the impact of rows and rows of synchronized hastasanas was dazzling to the sight. So much positive movement going on here, and hey, I was a part of that movement- not simply a side line witness but involved as involved as one can be- and fully there.

How many times with have heard, “things come at their perfect timing?”  Well, they do.  The yoga center has been through so many phases in its development.  We have gone through so many enlivening experiences in the 18 years or so since its inception.  And one thing we have learned, it is that all the valuable experiences have come at their own timing, their perfect timing.